


Unmasked

by heyjupiter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Pining, Polyamory, Science Bros, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: When Tony surprises Bruce with a trip to Rio de Janeiro, they both have a rough first night. But Tony learns the importance of hydration, Bruce learns the importance of honest communication, and they manage to enjoy the rest of their vacation despite missing most of Carnaval.





	Unmasked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxx_cat_xxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxx_cat_xxx/gifts).



> This is for the "Carnival" square on my [Science Bros Bingo card](https://twentyghosts.tumblr.com/sciencebrosbingo), and also a gift for xxx_cat_xxx who requested some sick Tony fic. (And then she did me the gift of beta reading this, for which I thank her!)

Bruce sipped his tea and smiled to himself as he read the New York Times. It was nice to have the luxury of a quiet, leisurely morning, and even nicer that none of the day's headlines were too terrible. Of course, the true biggest story was top secret--Bruce and Tony had completed their work on the Hulkbuster project and launched the Veronica satellite into orbit. 

Even if they didn't want word to get out about that endeavor, it was a huge weight off Bruce's shoulders to know it was up there. It made him feel better about his risky decision to stick around Avengers Tower for awhile; if the worst happened and the Other Guy was once again unleashed on a densely populated area, at least he knew Tony would be able to stop him, to protect civilians.

Tony burst into the kitchen. "Bruce! C'mon, let's go."

"What? Where? Is, uh, is it a Code Green?" They'd been working on the Hulkbuster project at a feverish pace, and Bruce had been looking forward to having a quiet day to unwind, but of course he’d join Tony if the Avengers needed the Other Guy.

"Oh! No, everything's fine, it's a surprise."

Bruce sipped his tea. "Historically, it's not a great idea to surprise me."

"Bruce, it's fine, it's a nice surprise, you're not gonna Hulk out. Here, I packed a bag for you." Bruce put down his newspaper and realized that Tony was holding two duffel bags over his shoulder, neither of which was Bruce's tattered old tote.

"It's an overnight surprise?" Bruce asked with raised eyebrows. He and Tony had spent a lot of late nights together in Tony's workshop, but had always eventually retreated to their own separate bedrooms. Sometimes Bruce fantasized about what it would be like to share a bed with Tony, but he knew that Tony and Pepper were devoted to each other. They’d been so generous to let Bruce stay in their home, the last thing Bruce would ever want to repay that kindness by destroying their relationship. 

"Bruce, c'mon, you picked our last activity. Now it's my turn. And trust me, mine is way more fun than your thing was."

Bruce sighed and drained the last of his tea. It had taken some doing to convince Tony that the Hulkbuster armor was necessary; in fact, Bruce still didn't think Tony understood that it was _necessary_ , he'd simply caved to the thrill of a new engineering challenge. Tony had done brilliant work on the project, but he'd been visibly uncomfortable about Bruce's matter-of-fact analysis of Hulk's many strengths and few weaknesses. That was understandable; most people were afraid of the Hulk even without knowing the full extent of his destructive capability. Bruce supposed he should just be happy that Tony still wanted to be friends with a monster like him. He put his teacup in the dishwasher and said, "Okay."

Tony beamed and handed him a soft leather bag. "The jet is waiting!"

Bruce let out a nervous laugh and followed Tony to the jet. Not the Quinjet they used for Avengers missions, but a private plane that Tony used for SI business. It was much more luxurious than the Quinjet, and it made Bruce a little nervous. It would be so expensive if he broke anything. He sat down at a window seat and buckled his seatbelt. Tony sat next to him and laughed. "You don't actually have to wear that, you know."

"Oh, right." A plane crash wouldn't kill Bruce, anyway, and with his armor, Tony could probably save himself and the pilot.

"I mean, there's no flight attendants to yell at you."

"Just habit, I guess."

Tony smiled at Bruce and then walked up front and stuck his head in the cockpit, where he had a hushed conversation with the pilot. Bruce fidgeted with his seatbelt and wished he'd had the foresight to grab his newspaper when they left. Tony returned to his seat and said, "We'll take off now, we'll be there in about six hours. Ish."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Six hours? Where are we going?" Six hours would get them all the way across the country on a commercial flight; in Tony's private jet they could surely go faster.

Tony grinned and held a finger to his lips. "A surprise, remember? JARVIS, darken the windows to a 90% tint, please."

The plane's windows obligingly darkened, and Bruce felt the plane begin to speed up. "What about Pepper?" Pepper was always so kind to Bruce, but he feared that she might come to resent all the time Tony spent working with Bruce.

"Hmm? Oh, she's still in Shanghai for another few days."

"Ah." Bruce pressed his palms into his thighs and counted his breaths.

"Oh, buddy, are you just a nervous flyer in general? I always assumed it was you know, Other Guy-related. But this is way nicer than the Quinjet, right?"

Bruce managed a laugh. "No, yeah, it is. Uh, I'm more of just a generally nervous person, really."

"Well, I think I know the cure for that." Tony rose from his seat and returned with a cocktail shaker and two glasses. 

"Tony, it's like 9 am."

"Closer to 10, and you're on vacation! Plus, it's medicinal."

"No, thanks."

"You sure? I'm having one." Tony cheerfully poured himself a drink.

"I'm sure. Thanks."

"Fine. Water? Ginger ale? Orange juice? I didn't have this flight staffed but I'm happy to be your flight attendant."

"Oh, um…" Bruce was too overwhelmed to make even the simplest decision right now.

"Here, I'll get you a water. Hydration, so important," Tony said.

"Thanks, Tony." Bruce took the water bottle from Tony and picked at the label.

"You want to watch a movie? Maybe something off the list? You can pick."

"Uh, yeah, a movie sounds good. But you can pick." Shortly after Bruce's arrival at the Tower, Tony had begun to notice what he considered unacceptable gaps in Bruce's pop culture knowledge. Bruce did like movies--he was pretty up-to-date on the Bollywood films of the day--but his years on the run had led him to miss out on a lot of Tony's favorite (oft-referenced) movies. Tony had made a list of Bruce's must-see films and shows and they'd been working their way through them over the past few months. 

Sometimes they were joined by others, depending on their availability--Steve and Thor were way further behind on pop culture than Bruce was, but Tony didn’t seem to have a lot of faith in their ability to ever catch up. Bruce had been making more progress as Tony eventually gave up on dragging Bruce out to parties and other outings in favor of more nights in. Bruce definitely preferred the quiet evenings with his new friend but feared that Tony would get sick of Bruce cramping his style.

"I picked our destination, you can pick the movie." Tony projected the list for Bruce, but Bruce felt too overwhelmed to decide. He kept counting his breaths and pointed out a movie at random.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Uh, you sure you want to watch _Snakes on a Plane_ right now?"

"Hmm?"

"No, nothing, it's your pick." Tony tapped his phone and the movie started playing on a screen at the front of the airplane. Bruce stared ahead at it, too distracted to really follow even the dumbest of plots. Beside him, Tony laughed and joked, and Bruce tried to chime in with appropriate sounds. Eventually, Bruce relaxed enough to enjoy the ridiculous saga unfolding in front of them. 

When the movie ended, Tony returned to the plane's fridge and came back with snacks. "I got you hummus! You like hummus, right?" His brow furrowed. "Or do you hate it?"

"I like it, thank you," Bruce said, with some surprise.

"Whew." Tony looked satisfied with himself as he dipped a baby carrot into the hummus. "You want anything else to drink?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay. So, maybe let's move down the list and watch something that's funny on purpose for awhile?"

"Sure, that sounds great." Bruce leaned back into his comfortable seat, feeling relaxed enough to actually enjoy the episodes of The Office that Tony played for him. The rest of their flight passed in a relatively enjoyable manner, although in the back of his mind, he was still a little anxious about what Tony's surprise would turn out to be. Even when the plane landed, the windows were still tinted, and they were whisked into a waiting car so quickly that Bruce couldn't be sure where they were. He had a brief sense of it being warm and humid, and then they were ushered into a luxurious hotel lobby, where they were met personally by a beautiful employee who swept them into a private elevator and showed each of them to their own penthouse suite. Tony dropped his bag off in his room and then barged into Bruce's room with a wide smile. 

"What do you think?"

"Where are we?" Bruce asked, feeling faintly sick. The luxury of the suite was too much; he couldn't imagine how much a room like this would cost, wherever they were. It was too much money to be spent on Bruce.

"Rio de Janeiro! Have you ever been to Carnaval?"

Bruce swallowed hard. He couldn't think of anything he'd like to do _less_ than attend Carnaval. When he'd lived in Brazil he'd actively avoided it. But Tony looked so excited. Bruce just said, "No, uh, I can't say that I have."

Tony beamed. "I didn't think so! Let's go!"

Bruce sank onto the room's lovely ivory leather sofa and gestured down at his khakis. "I...I don't think I'm dressed…right…"

"Bruce, we're just watching, we're not going to be _in_ a parade. You can wear whatever you want. But, open your bag!"

Bruce licked his lips and stood up to where he'd dropped his bag by the door. He opened it and right at the top found a sparkly green half-mask. "Oh. Thanks."

Tony looked at him with concern, finally seeming to notice Bruce’s tepid reaction. "Oh, wait, are you hungry? Should we get dinner first? I guess there's no rush, right, since the parties go all night long!"

Bruce searched Tony's face for any sign that this was a joke. He knew Tony didn’t reciprocate Bruce’s feelings for him, but he’d thought he and Tony were at least friends. He’d thought it would go without saying that Bruce absolutely did not want to attend one of the world's most crowded all-night street parties. But Tony looked excited. And Tony was right; Bruce _had_ picked their last activity, and Tony had thrown weeks of his time and thousands of dollars into Bruce's pet project without complaint. Bruce figured he at least owed it to Tony to _try_. He managed a small smile and said, "Yeah, maybe dinner first would be good?"

"Of course! So, I think in general, rabbit food is a challenge around here, but the hotel restaurant is supposed to be _very_ good and they're used to feeding weird tourists, so I'm sure they'll have some decent vegetarian options."

"Sounds good,” Bruce said, touched by the consideration.

Tony smiled and led Bruce down to the restaurant, which did indeed have some good vegetarian options. Their waiter provided them with menus in English, but reacted pleasantly when Bruce dusted off some Portuguese pleasantries he still had stored in his brain.

"How many languages _do_ you speak, Brucie?" Tony asked.

"I wouldn't really say I _speak_ Portuguese, especially not these days, but it's similar enough to Spanish that I can kind of scrape by…"

Tony shook his head. "So modest."

"I...well...how many languages do you speak?"

"Not counting programming languages...I guess I can _scrape by_ in three. I've been trying to learn Mandarin, but, well, it's tough."

"Zhōngwén hěn nán," Bruce agreed.

Tony's face lit up. It was really unfair that Tony was so handsome on top of everything else. "I love it when you show off!"

Bruce smiled back, until their waiter returned with two caipirinhas. 

"Obrigado," Tony said. He lifted his glass. "Viva! Saúde!"

Bruce picked up the other glass and clinked it to Tony's, but set it back on the table without drinking it.

"Bruce, c'mon, it's vacation. It's _Carnaval_."

"I don't drink, Tony."

"Not even on vacation?"

"No, not ever."

"I didn't know that," Tony said. "I...hmm. Never?"

"Never," Bruce repeated patiently. 

"But you've had drinks with me before."

"I, um, yeah, I'm sorry about that, I...always poured those in the sink when you weren't looking. Or, uh, that big plant in the common room."

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"Well, I kind of tried, a few times...but...you can be pretty persistent, and I...I don't know, I just didn't want to...argue about it. It seemed easier."

"Bruce! I wouldn't have…" Tony trailed off with a laugh. "Well, I guess maybe I would, I'm sorry. Because of the Other Guy? Is that why you don't drink?"

"Um, kind of." Bruce looked down at the table.

"But now you don't have to worry about that, right?"

"I...of course I have to worry about it, Tony!"

"But...Veronica." Tony gestured up at the ceiling with his drink.

"That's a last-resort measure. I...I'm very glad we finished making it, but it's still not a trick I'm hoping to bring to every party, Tony. Anyway, even...even before...I just don't drink. But I just don't like to make a...a thing out of it." Bruce crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"Okay, sorry, I just...I just thought you deserved to let loose a little. Have some fun."

"I...thanks, Tony. But I'm just not a very fun person."

"I definitely don't think _that's_ true." Tony sipped his drink. "Wait, does it bother you if I drink?"

"No, of course not. You're not…"

"I'm not what?"

Bruce hesitated before quietly finishing his thought. "You're not a mean drunk."

A flash of recognition washed over Tony's face, and he put his drink down. "Oh."

"No, it's...please, finish your drink." Bruce barely understood why Tony let Bruce hang around him in the first place, he really didn't want to wear out his welcome by being _such_ a downer.

"Nah, I'd better hydrate," Tony said cheerfully.

"Hydration _is_ important," Bruce replied with a shy smile.

The waiter brought their food and asked Bruce if there was anything wrong with his drink.

Bruce insisted it was fine and happily tucked into his black bean empadãos, while Tony frowned at his plate.

"What did I order? I thought it was fish."

"I think it's salted cod."

Tony made a dubious face and took a tiny bite. "Blech."

"I'm sure they'd bring you something else."

"Nah, I'll just get something on the street. I hear that’s the thing to do here. I just don't think there are a lot vegetarian street meat options."

"Kind of by definition," Bruce agreed. "Well...thanks, that's...thoughtful."

"I'm a very thoughtful person, Bruce," Tony said earnestly.

Bruce smiled. It really was true, even if Tony's thoughts were sometimes a little...off. "Yeah."

Too quickly, they finished their meal and went to get their masks for the evening's revels. "So. I got a box for the Sambodromo, or I thought it might be fun to just join in one of the street parties? What do you think?"

"The, um, if you got the box, we might as well use it?" That seemed like it would at least be less stressful than one of the street parties.

"You're right. We can always check out the block parties later."

"Right," Bruce agreed weakly.

They left the climate-controlled calm of the hotel and slowly made their way on foot to the Sambodromo, the huge stadium that showcased the city's biggest samba performances. It wasn't far, but Tony stopped for a skewer of picanha meat, which he made a show of enjoying while Bruce counted his breaths and tried to keep calm among the chaos. He felt better once they made it up to their VIP box seats. It was still noisy, but at least they had a bit of personal space. He even managed to enjoy the performances; it _was_ a beautiful spectacle, and not only because of all the flesh on display from the barely-clothed dancers. During a transition between dance numbers, Bruce turned to look at Tony, to thank him for the experience. Bruce winced at what he saw. Tony was pale and sweaty beneath his glittery red half-mask. He looked as miserable as Bruce had expected to feel.

"Tony? Are you okay?" Bruce asked, loudly to be heard over the noise.

"'M…" Tony started to say, then he leaned forward and threw up on his own shoes.

As they were in a VIP box, a staff member immediately came over to clean up and assist them, kindly reminding them that plenty of tourists drank too much alcohol while celebrating Carnaval. Bruce didn't think that was Tony's problem tonight, but he thanked the man in Portuguese and said he'd take care of Tony. "C'mon, Tony, let's get you out of here."

"No, I'm…" Tony started to say, before retching again. "...sorry."

“Is it just food poisoning, do you think? Or something more?” Bruce pressed a hand to Tony’s warm forehead. "Do you need a hospital?"

“Yeah, that meat...please, just wanna go to the hotel…”

“Okay,” Bruce agreed. Tony's self-diagnosis of food poisoning was probably accurate, and the hotel was probably closer than any hospital, anyway. 

Bruce grabbed Tony's wallet out of his pocket to tip the guy stuck cleaning up Tony's puke. Then he led Tony out of the stadium and back to the hotel. He wished they could take a taxi, but given the crowds and the blocked off streets, he was pretty sure the most efficient way was by foot. In his head, the Other Guy nervously offered to take over, knowing he could get Tony back to the hotel faster. Bruce declined and fervently hoped Hulk would listen, as Bruce kept an arm wrapped tightly around Tony's shoulders and propelled him through the crowd. He was glad for their sparkly masks, which let them blend into the crowd, though he was pretty sure that paparazzi photos of Tony Stark incapacitated at Carnaval would surprise no one.

Finally, Bruce managed to guide Tony into the hotel’s fancy penthouse elevator. He pushed his Carnaval mask up on top of his head. "Sorry, Bruce," Tony mumbled. He still looked awful.

"It's okay, Tony. Sorry you're sick. We're almost back to the room. This elevator is really fast." The elevator let them out on the top floor, and Bruce guided Tony back to his room. Bruce still had Tony's wallet and he unlocked the door. Tony kicked off his shoes and threw his mask on the ground before sprinting to the bathroom and slamming the door. 

Bruce took off his own mask, then called down to room service and asked for ginger ale, coconut water, and crackers to be sent up. He paused and asked if they could also send Pepto Bismol; he wasn’t sure if that was the kind of thing room service would send but the hotel employee kindly assured him that they would be happy to. Bruce supposed that was the kind of service you got when you paid however much money Tony had paid for these rooms. He overtipped the staff member who promptly delivered those lifesaving goods. 

Then he knocked on the bathroom door. "Tony? You okay?"

"Don't come in here! Please!" Tony replied, his voice weak. 

"I got you some medicine. It'll help." Bruce tried the door and found it locked. 

"Did you get air freshener?"

"What?"

"It's...don't tell me you can't smell this," Tony moaned. It was true that the poor guy was very obviously experiencing extreme gastroenterological distress from every possible direction.

On the other side of the door, Bruce shrugged. "I've smelled worse. I'm a doctor."

"Gross," Tony muttered, and then Bruce heard the sound of retching again. "Bruce, why don't you go back to the party and just leave me here? I'll be...fine."

"No, I'll wait until you're okay." Tony hadn't eaten that much today, he had to be coming up empty before too long.

"I didn't bring you here for this...I wanted you to have fun," Tony said miserably.

"I won't have any fun without you."

Tony sighed. “You weren’t having any fun anyway, were you?”

“It was more fun than I expected,” Bruce said truthfully. “Please, Tony, let me help you. I’m worried.”

"I’m fine, just gotta get this out of my system.”

Bruce sighed, knowing how stubborn Tony was. He gave up for the moment and turned on the TV, mostly for some white noise to give Tony a little privacy. Eventually, he knocked on the bathroom door again. He hadn’t heard anything in awhile and wanted to make sure Tony hadn’t passed out. "Tony? How're you doing?"

"If I say fine, will you leave me alone?"

"Are you fine?"

"...I've been better."

"Can I please bring you some medicine now?"

"I don't want you to see me like this."

"Tony, you've seen me at my worst plenty of times."

"I've never seen you sick."

"No, but you've seen me...change."

"Bruce! That can't be your worst."

"It's...so embarrassing. It's gross. It makes me so exposed. It's a terrible curse that I brought upon myself. You just have food poisoning."

Bruce heard the lock click and the bathroom door swung open. Tony looked wrung out, drenched in sweat and unsteady on his feet. "You're wrong, Brucie." He gestured at his stomach and said, " _This_ is a terrible curse I brought upon myself, via street meats. Your thing makes you an awesome superhero. Did you get any Sprite?"

"Ginger ale," Bruce said apologetically. He set the ginger ale on the counter, along with the Pepto. "I can call for Sprite, though."

"This is fine." Tony took swigs from both bottles, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and returned to kneel in front of the toilet.

"Already?" Bruce asked with alarm. “You haven't brought up any blood, have you?”

"No, no blood...and I don’t think I’m gonna puke again, I just...just in case."

Bruce followed Tony into the ridiculously large bathroom. He ran cold water over a fluffy white washcloth, then wrung it out and placed it on the back of Tony's neck. Tony sighed. After a moment's hesitation, Bruce knelt next to Tony and gently rubbed the washcloth over Tony's face, then stroked Tony's sweaty hair with his hand. Tony still felt a bit feverish, but not in a truly worrisome range. 

"Mm, you're so nice, Bruce," Tony mumbled.

"Feeling better?"

"Mmph." Bruce wasn't sure what that meant, so he kept petting Tony's hair. Finally, Tony sucked in a breath and said, "I think...I can go to bed now."

Bruce stood up and offered Tony a hand up. Tony started shucking off his clothes and unceremoniously throwing them in the trash can. 

"Oh," Bruce said. He politely turned away.

Tony laughed. "You can look now." 

Bruce turned back and found Tony clad in pajama pants and a tank top, sitting on the edge of the bed. Bruce picked up the coconut water off the table and offered it to Tony. "Could you try to rehydrate a little bit more?"

"I guess I might as well."

Bruce sat next to Tony on the bed and set the bottle on the nightstand. Tony picked it up and took a few sips. "It's not as good as Sprite."

"It has more electrolytes," Bruce said, but then he called room service for Sprite.

Tony slumped over and rested his head on Bruce's lap. "You're a good doctor, Brucie."

Bruce stroked Tony's hair. "Technically, my license is lapsed."

"Mmph."

A few moments later, they heard a knock at the door. 

"Come in," Tony called weakly.

"I'll just go get it."

"Noo, don't get up."

"Fine. Come in," Bruce called, louder.

The door clicked open and a polite young man brought a bottle of Sprite over to the bed and hustled out of the room without making eye contact. 

"You have to sit up to drink."

"Mmph." Tony lifted his head slightly and took a few sips before returning his head to Bruce's lap. Before long, Tony's breathing evened out, and Bruce realized that he'd fallen asleep. Bruce sighed. He didn't want to disrupt Tony's rest after all that. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with Bruce, too, and he gently lay straight back on the bed, careful not to disturb Tony. It was an awkward position for sleep, especially since he was still fully clothed, but he drifted off quickly anyway.

Later, he awoke and felt Tony move. Bruce supposed he should go back to his own room, but he was too tired to offer. Then he felt Tony drag a pillow up to his head. Bruce sleepily moved so the pillow was under his head, and then he felt Tony curl up on Bruce's chest.

"Wait, do you want the pillow?" Surely this huge bed had more than one pillow, but it seemed impossible to reach another one right now. 

Tony laughed. "No, you're my pillow."

"Kay," Bruce agreed. They were both on top of the duvet, but he grabbed the edge of it and pulled it over the two of them in an awkward, but cozy, burrito. He wondered if this was a dream, but he decided to try to just enjoy it. "Night, Tony."

"Night, Brucie."

Bruce woke up again to light streaming in from the room's huge plate glass window. Tony was still asleep on top of him. Bruce couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a bed with someone. Well--he could remember, it was just painful to think of Betty. But this was different, of course, this was just Bruce caring for a sick friend. Still, the intimacy was unexpectedly pleasant, even knowing it would never lead to anything else. Then Tony stretched and yelped, a startled sound that was the appropriate response to waking up in bed with a monster.

"Sorry," Bruce murmured, rolling away from him. "You--you were pretty out of it, I think, but you kind of...wanted me to stay. I--I'll go." He shrugged off the duvet and sat up.

"No, Bruce, wait," Tony whined. He sat up and tugged Bruce's arm. 

Bruce waited.

"I just--I'm so sorry, I screwed this all up."

"Hey, it's okay, everyone gets sick sometimes." 

"No, not that--although, I guess it was pretty dumb to eat meat on a stick from the first street vendor I passed by. I mean…" Tony trailed off.

"What?" Bruce's curiosity was piqued. Tony wasn't often at a loss for words.

"I just...I wanted to give you a good memory."

"What are you talking about?"

"Of Brazil. I--look, when we were working with all the Hulk files, and everything, I saw...I read about how you...what happened the last time you were in Brazil, and it sounded so horrible. And, I don't know, it's stupid, but I just wanted...I wanted you to have a new, nice memory of Brazil. You're so brave, and you deserve so much better than what you've gotten, and, I thought...I thought maybe I could give you that. And instead…this." Tony flung his hand out to gesture angrily at the luxurious bedroom.

Bruce blinked back tears. "Oh, Tony, that is...so kind."

Tony took a shaky breath. "It's just been so hard to work on that awful Hulkbuster suit with you and to just see how miserable you've been for so long, and I thought maybe now you could relax a little. And I know Carnaval isn’t really your usual kind of thing, but with the timing of it all, I thought maybe...you could enjoy it? I just...I wanted to see you happy."

"I am happy," Bruce said automatically. "Really, Tony, working with you has made me happy. You've been so...so good to me. I couldn't ask for a better friend."

"And is that...is that all you want from me?"

"...What do you mean?" Bruce had been trying so hard to hide his attraction to Tony, hoping to avoid awkward conversations. Maybe he hadn't been as subtle as he hoped. Maybe Tony was talking about something else. Maybe Bruce could close his eyes and pretend to fall back to sleep right now.

"I mean if I...god, these are not the conditions I wanted for this conversation, but I don't want to wait any longer...if I were to brush my teeth, and then if I asked if I could kiss you...what would you say?"

Bruce's blood ran cold. "I...Tony, but what about Pepper?"

Matter-of-factly, Tony said, "Pepper and I have an open relationship. Didn't I mention that?"

"Um. No."

"Really?"

"I...I think I would remember that."

"I guess people usually just read it in the gossip columns," Tony mused.

“I don’t really read that stuff.”

“No, I guess you don’t,” Tony said with a fond smile. "Trust me, Bruce, Pepper knows how I feel about you, and she's totally fine with it. She actually feels the same way about you, but I got here first.”

“What?”

“Look, she can talk to you herself later. She's...I always forget the time zones, but she's probably on a date right now herself. Or getting ready for one. Or asleep after one? Anyway, the point is...ethical nonmonogamy. Really, I didn’t think we were being subtle about it."

"Can we go back to…um, really? You'd really want to...kiss me?" Bruce asked hesitantly. It was hard to believe that Tony would play such a cruel joke on Bruce, but it was almost as hard to believe that he was telling the truth. 

"Well, only if you want me to. I only like consensual kisses."

"I, um. Like, in a, like, romantically?" He'd daydreamed about kissing Tony for weeks, but he'd been trying so hard to banish the stupid crush from his mind. Tony's friendship was already more than Bruce could have ever expected.

"Oh my god," Tony muttered. "Don't you dare move, Bruce, I will be right back to finish this conversation properly. I would absolutely skip this step if I hadn’t been so disgustingly ill last night." He climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Too dazed to think about moving, Bruce sat still, listening to the sounds of vigorous toothbrushing and trying to process everything Tony had said. He wondered if Tony had really meant it when he’d said that Pepper also had feelings for Bruce. He wondered if he was really about to kiss Tony. 

Tony came back to bed, where he knelt facing Bruce and tenderly cradled Bruce's face in his hands. "Could I kiss you, Bruce? In a, like, romantic way?" His tone was slightly teasing, but kind.

“Uh...I...I haven’t brushed _my_ teeth.”

“Yeah, but you kept all of _your_ food down yesterday, so as far as I’m concerned, you can skip that step. What do you say?”

Bruce gave a small nod, unsure he could get any other words out coherently. Tony's face lit up with that brilliant smile, and then he leaned in to kiss Bruce. At first it was a gentle, chaste touch, but then Bruce let a small sigh escape his lips. Tony took that as encouragement and applied more pressure. Bruce wrapped his arms around Tony's neck and somehow Bruce ended up lying on top of Tony. He bit his lip and pulled back to look down at Tony. Tony's brows furrowed. "Everything okay, Brucie? I _did_ pack a toothbrush for you, if you’re still worried about that, not that I think you should be."

"Yeah, great, I just...I didn't think...we could ever…" he trailed off and smiled sheepishly.

“We could.” Tony reached up and pulled Bruce's head back down toward him, tangling his fingers in Bruce's hair. Tony kissed Bruce's throat, gently at first, and then with loud suction. Bruce gasped. "You like that?"

"Mm," Bruce agreed. "It's just--I'm a little...could we go slow?" So far the Other Guy had remained quiet in his head; if anything, he seemed faintly pleased with this turn of events. But Bruce really didn’t want to risk it.

"Of course," Tony agreed immediately. "However you want. Truth be told, I...I'm still not feeling one hundred percent." Bruce sat up and looked down at Tony with concern. Tony shook his head and smiled. "I mean, I'm not gonna puke on you or anything, I swear. I'm just...just still a bit worn out, I guess."

"Yeah. Probably you're still dehydrated...well, how about...if I call room service and have them send up some toast and tea, and then maybe we could just...spend the rest of the day in bed?"

"I love the way you think, Bruce." Bruce reached for the phone, and Tony added, "Would you get more Sprite, too? And condoms? Just to be prepared, for later."

"I--can you order condoms from room service?" Bruce sputtered.

"Oh, you for sure can, but you don't need to. I packed plenty, I just think you're so cute when you blush," Tony replied with a smirk. 

Bruce clicked his tongue and laughed. Still blushing, he placed their breakfast order, and then he lay back down and rested his head on Tony's chest. He sighed with contentment. "This is it."

"What?"

"My new favorite Brazilian memory."

Tony tightened his arm around Bruce. "You think there's any room left for improvement?"

"Mm, maybe after you're rehydrated." There was a knock on the door, and Bruce said, "Speaking of which." 

"Come in!" Tony called, his voice now strong enough to carry to the door. A young woman wheeled in a tray and left it at their bedside, wishing them a good morning with a polite nod. 

"Mm, smells good," Tony said, with no attempt to sit up.

Bruce grabbed the plate of toast. Feeling bold, he ripped off a corner and held it up to Tony's mouth. He knew Tony didn’t like to be handed things, but maybe he’d rather have Bruce hand him toast than sit up right now. Tony gave a surprised laugh and then closed his teeth around the bread. He chewed and swallowed, then smiled up at Bruce. "You have an amazing bedside manner, Dr. Banner." Bruce smiled back and slowly fed Tony a piece of toast. Then, having had the foresight to ask for a straw this time, he helped Tony take some sips of Sprite. "Mm, hydration is so important," Tony murmured.

"Extremely important. As your doctor, I definitely wouldn't clear you for any strenuous activity until you're hydrated."

Tony sipped more Sprite while Bruce drank tea. They finished their leisurely breakfast and Bruce lay back down, again resting his head on Tony's chest.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"This is real, right?"

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I mean, I'm not a doctor, but I don't think food poisoning causes hallucinations, and even if it did, I don't think they'd be contagious."

"It could just be a dream…" Tony poked a finger into Bruce's side, hard. "Ow!"

"It's real, Brucie. You're stuck with me. I mean, unless you don't want to be, in which case--"

Bruce raised his head up off of Tony's chest to plant a kiss on his lips before he could finish that ridiculous sentence. 

"Mm," Tony said happily. 

"Mm," Bruce agreed.

They didn't leave their suite again until it was time to return to New York, by which point Tony had succeeded in his goal of replacing all of Bruce's terrible memories of Brazil with increasingly delightful ones.

On the flight home, Tony said, "We'll have to come back to Carnaval next year. We barely got to see any of it."

"Oh, I think we saw everything we needed to see," Bruce replied with a sly smile.


End file.
